


Shattered

by IzPerplexing



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-04
Updated: 2013-03-17
Packaged: 2017-11-28 04:30:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/670282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IzPerplexing/pseuds/IzPerplexing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With his death at hand, Lucius Malfoy wanted to do just one thing right in his life. Binding his son to Hermione Granger with an ancient spell wasn't the best idea, but he knew it would somehow benefit them both in the future... even if Draco and Hermione didn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or its characters. No copyright infringement is intended.
> 
> AN: This fic is slightly AU. You will find things along the way that do not line up with canon but I did try to stay as close to it as I could. I'm sure you will notice those things along the way so I will not point them out since I'm informing you of them now.
> 
> I hope you enjoy :D

Shattered

 

Lucius Malfoy was running as fast as his feet, and his charge, would let him. His grip was firmly on Draco's collar and pulling the boy with all his might as he tore through the abandoned hallway. If anyone was around to witness it, they would have sworn the fires of hell were licking at his feet, and that wasn't far from the truth.

He had to get Draco to Severus. He knew he, himself, was dead. There was no way out of this battle but through a coffin, and oddly enough, he was alright with that. But, his son was an entirely different matter. He wouldn't let his son die – not here, not like this. He had to keep him safe and there was only one way to do that. Deliver him into the hands of The Order.

He saw the light of the curse reflect off the dark stone wall of the castle and quickly threw himself and Draco to the ground, turning on his back as he did and firing his own curse in an instant. He watched as Mulciber fell to the ground, but he didn't bother to stay and watch his nasty slicing hex go to work once the sounds of gurgling blood could be heard. He knew the man would be dead in an instant and so would they if they didn't keep moving.

“Up,” he growled as he dragged his son to his feet. His hand had yet to leave the collar of Draco's robes.

Down another hallway, dodging the rubble that had been blasted sometime in the last two hours from the raging fight on Hogwarts grounds, they quickly made their way up. The battle for the end of this war was at its peak. Many had already lost their lives, but it all boiled down to two – his master and Potter. He could care less at this point how either was fairing.

He didn't know exactly where Severus was, but he knew he was in this direction. Somehow, he could always find his friend. They had always had a very strong bond in knowing where the other was or if they needed help, and while most would find that odd, he never questioned it. It had saved both their lives many times before to have the special connection that they shared, and the benefits outweighed any curiosity that Lucius might have had toward the subject.

Up a flight of steps and into another hallway, this one lined on one side with nothing but windows. He could see the flashes from outside – green, red, blue, white, another green – and the loud explosions that accompanied most of them. The brilliant colors dancing along the stained glass would have been a beautiful sight to behold if it weren't for his absolute terror. While he had always been one to appreciate beauty in rare places, he couldn't afford to be sentimental now. He had a job to do before death took him.

He was getting close, he knew, but before he could round into another hallway, they both collided with something. He instantly recognized it as a small, soft body as they fell into a heap. He wasted no time scrambling to his knees, fully alert, and had his wand trained on the offending person. Much to his surprise, he was also staring down the length of a wand, which was ultimately attached to a young woman. In his panic it took him a moment to recognize her.

“Miss Granger,” he sneered, trying to assess the situation to his benefit. He stared into her wide brown eyes and calculated whether she could be of some use. Normally he wouldn't even consider the matter, but since he was trying to deliver Draco over to her kind, he paused.

“Mr. Malfoy,” she said, strangely calm for a girl of her age in her position. They were at war, in the middle of a deadly battle, yet her hand was steady as she glared at him. Regardless of his initial response of being impressed with the girl, he could see the fear in her eyes.

Taking a moment to study her, he saw she had a small cut above her left eyebrow, but the blood seemed to have mostly dried. While she appeared to be rather level-headed, the fatigue she was no doubt experiencing showed in the slump of her shoulders. Her clothes, while soaking wet, were singed and tattered, apparently from some sort of flame curse. Her eyes were red and puffy as if she'd been crying and she looked deathly pale. If it weren't for her steady hand, he might have expected her to fall out in a dead faint at any second.

He was surprised to feel a small wave of admiration for the witch. He had never put much stock in the mudblood, but he couldn’t deny she had some talent, especially while he stared down the tip of her wand. It wasn’t a position he found himself in often.  

Draco had told him how powerful she was, and he was seeing a glimpse of that now. They had formed a grudging truce with each other this past year, so he had heard a few stories of her heroism and magical ability. He had never thought he’d come face to face with it, however, being a Slytherin meant using all situations to your advantage. She was a member of the Order and he thought it best to try to work through her to find his friend.

“I need to find Severus. Do you know here he might be?” He lowered his wand and leaned back slightly to show he meant her no harm. It was a risk, and one he normally wouldn't take, but seeing his son shake violently out of the corner of his eye, he made the choice nonetheless.

She furrowed her brows in confusion. Obviously, she’d expecting him to kill her on the spot. She studied him for a moment, he wasn't sure what she was looking for, but she seemed to find it. She slowly stood and took a wary step back.

“I haven't seen him. There is nothing but Death Eaters down this corridor. Now, if you don't plan on hexing me, I need to be moving before they get any closer.”

Her wand was still trained on him, but he saw her glance in Draco's direction briefly, no doubt assessing his level of danger to her. He had yet to move or speak. The boy was too exhausted to do much else.

She began to walk backwards, wand still steadily fixed on his chest. Admitting that the girl was of no use to him now, he made to grab his son, but before he could, he watched as a purple flame shot past the Granger girl and hit Draco instead.

His son cried out and fell backwards into his arms as another blue jet of light barreled down the hallway. He had no time to react with his son twitching violently in his arms, but much to his dismay, the hex hit a shielding charm that had wrapped around them both.

In an instant, the Granger girl was standing in front of them defending and countering hexes from the two dark figures at the end of the hall. He was too shocked to do anything but watch as she gracefully, and sometimes wordlessly, shot spell after spell from her wand. He leaned as far against the wall as he could and held Draco tightly in amazement as the witch defended them valiantly.

His mind thinking quickly, as it always had, searched for an escape route. Seeing the slightly jarred classroom door a few feet down from where he sat, he decided shelter was his best bet. He could regroup and figure out what to do from there. Scrambling as fast as he could while still sitting, he dragged his son, whose shaking had become more violent, towards the room.

Pushing the door ajar, he noticed it was the Defense classroom. He turned back towards the girl and noticed that she was now only battling against one. He couldn't see well enough to make out who she was up against, but whoever it was, they were wearing her down. Each curse had pushed her further back and she was losing ground quickly. She dodged a rather vibrant yellow curse, that he knew well to be the Entrail Expelling Curse, and by the look on her face he knew she recognized it, too.

He shivered in disgust. He had seen that curse performed before, and no matter who was on the receiving end, he didn't wish to experience that horror again.

He stopped his movements just as he saw her jaw set and a well spoken, eerily calm, “Avada Kedavra” left her mouth. The figure at the end of hall fell with a loud thud. The violent battle had lasted less than a minute.

He blinked in surprise, never imagining he would see such a curse leave the mudblood's lips, much less a member of the Order. He studied her for a moment longer and suspected by the blank, vacant expression in her eyes that this had been the first time she had ever uttered the spell. The violent shiver that rocked her body a moment later as her soul shattered confirmed his thought.

For some unexplainable reason this shook him to his core. He remembered well the first time he cast the Killing Curse, and knew well how it felt to have your soul shattered. It was a painful experience, one he had learned to accept over time, but that had never made it any easier.

He was not a nice man. Actually, most considered him quite evil, and to some extent he supposed they were right, but the love of his family had always kept him more grounded than the insane people he had surrounded himself with since his youth. The loss of his wife, and now the threat to his son, had forced Lucius to accept the responsibility of his mistakes. Seeing the girl shatter her soul while protecting him, even after everything he and his family had done to her touched him in a way that nothing else ever had.

He heard the footsteps approaching from the way the girl had come, and he made a split second decision. Making sure Draco was securely inside the classroom, he got to his feet, reached out and grabbed the girl by her wrist and yanked her inside with them, Throwing her beside his son and slamming the door shut, he immediately threw up several nasty Wards locking them safely inside.

Once he was satisfied he had bought them some time, he turned to see the girl on her knees, hands loosely by her side and her head bowed – the frizzy mass she called hair obscuring her face. He closed his eyes wondering what had possessed him to do such a thing, but he didn't dwell on it. The girl had protected them and he couldn't deny he owed her. At one time in his life Lucius had prided himself on upholding honor, even if his idea of it was sick and twisted to most. He couldn't help but try to uphold that even as death himself inched his icy hands ever closer.

A whimper from his son drew his attention down to Draco's side. He frantically searched him for any signs of trauma, but could find no distinguishing marks of any kind. Whatever he had been hit with, it must work from the inside. That helped to narrow down the possibilities of the curse.

Waving his wand above his son, he went to work. He was very adept at curses and counter curses, something he owed to Severus. There had been many times they had found themselves in need of healing with only each other to rely on.

He let nothing penetrate his thoughts as he searched for answers on what his son had been afflicted with. He knew the girl was in a state and wouldn't be an issue for now, and although he could hear the others outside the door trying to gain entrance, he also knew his wards would hold for a while longer.

Studying the runes before him, he found the answer he was looking for. It was a nasty curse, but luckily he knew the counter spell. Not wasting any time as he heard Draco's whimpers of pain, he began to chant the counter-curse, watching as the grayish-blue flame left his wand and traveled over his son. He didn't allow himself to relax until Draco's breathing leveled out and his eyes opened – the look of pain gone.

“Father?” Draco whispered, staring at him weakly.

He laid his hand on his shoulder and said softly, “It's alright Draco.”

His relief for Draco's well being was replaced by an overwhelming sense of shame. It was the first time he had ever shared a moment such as this with his son.  The boy’s eyes softened and his shoulders relaxed, knowing he was safe in his presence. 

He didn't deserve that trust, not after what he had put his family through. He had pledged his allegiance to a mad man, who had taken his wife from him for something out of his control. He had endangered his only son, one he'd loved so deeply he'd never been able to properly express it.

Malfoy's didn't show emotion. But even as the thought ran through his mind, he understood just how wrong he had been. Not only in regards to how he ran his family, but a great many things. It only proved to increase his shame.

He had been so sure, for so many years, that the Dark Lord was the one to bring the Malfoys to glory. He had believed, and still did to a point, in his sentiments and ideals on blood purity, conveniently overlooking the fact the snake was a half-blood himself. Not that it really mattered to him. His best friend, the only person in the world who had ever been there for him unconditionally, was a a half-blood as well.

None of it made any sense now. He couldn't understand his hatred for those of less pure birth, nor his reasoning for wanting to kill an entire planet of people who had never bothered him, who didn't even know if his existence. What was so important that he'd risk the only people that really mattered to him?It made absolutely no sense to him now.

He knew it was the stress from everything they had gone through the past several months, or maybe even knowing his death was at hand, that made him examine things he had never looked too closely at before. If he had survived the war, he knew he would be just as nasty and judgmental as he had always been. He was Lucius Malfoy after all, and nothing could change that.

But seeing this look in his son’s eyes he wanted once, just this once, to do something good. He wanted his son to remember him for something other than what he was. His son deserved to live a life not ruled by fear or servitude. He would die before he saw Draco reduced to the sniveling, broken man he had become.

Leaning over his son, he laid his head gently against Draco's, staring at him with all the love and affection he, as a father, should have shown him, but had never been able to bring himself to. He placed both of his hands on the side of his son's face and closed his eyes as the tears started to form.

Leaning back so he could look at his son properly, he said, “I want you to know that I have always, been proud of the man you have become.” He swallowed hard as he felt his son grip his shoulders tightly, his eyes glistening. His throat constricted painfully as he swallowed hard.

“I never told  you this, but I was so relieved when Severus told me you couldn't kill Dumbledore. I knew then that you'd be so very different from myself.” He watched as a lone tear fell from his son's eye, and reveled in his look of admiration, pride and love for only a moment before catching the boy up in a fierce hug. Closing his eyes he wondered why he hadn't done this more often. It was the most freeing experience of his life. “You deserve more, Draco, and I will die to make sure you never become me.”

He didn't give Draco a chance to react before he was on his feet, his son pulled with him. He quickly opened the large armoire to his right and tossed his son inside, before turning to the still despondent girl and doing the same to her. Draco was on his feet by the time he had thrown the Granger girl at him. He instinctively caught her, which seemed to startle her back to the present. They both made towards the opening of the small closet as if to escape.

“Father, what are you...”

Lucius raised his wand at them both, stopping both of their struggles to free themselves from the closet. He felt his heart shatter as his child's eyes clouded with fear. “Remember what I told you,” he said with conviction before casting his spell.

“Vocare Una Ad Defendo.”

He watched as they both froze at the site of the golden light emitted from his wand. It swirled around them swiftly, doing its work before shimmering faintly and disappearing altogether. He had a brief moment of panic, wondering what he was thinking binding his son to the mudblood, but he had a feeling this would benefit him somehow in the future, so he let it go.

“Severus will come for you. Live free my son,” he whispered to Draco who was staring at him in shock.

The moment he saw the implications of his words register on his face, he slammed the door and began to cast the appropriate spells to keep them safe. He could hear his son yelling “no” over and over as he banged against the door, but he held fast in his decision.

He knew that Severus would come for them. It all fell back on that feeling that connected the two of them, the one he had never questioned. He didn't have to do so now, either. Instead he let himself feel the comfort of their bond in knowing his brother was on his way to protect that which was most precious to him.

His protections complete, his son safely hidden from all but one, he walked towards the door and awaited for his Wards to be broken. It didn't take long, for no sooner had he positioned himself for the fight ahead, the door flew from its hinges. He wasn't surprised to see his executioners. They knew he had betrayed their cause and he wouldn't deny it.

Being a proud man, he stood his ground and sneered in arrogance. He was better than they were, not because he was a Malfoy or had more wealth than they did. No, it was because he had chosen his son over fear. He had not sacrificed Draco like they had all done to their own children, and he was a better man for it.

No words were spoken as the duel began.

He fought with all the honor a master of the Dark Arts could. He held nothing back, knowing no matter what decision he made from this moment on would change the future. In the end, when the final blow came, his last words to his son were the only thing to echo through his mind as the slicing curse cut through his neck and shoulder.

You deserve more, Draco, and I will die to make sure you never become me.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I hate this chapter. It's one of those really hard ones that don't want to turn out like you want it to and that just sucks. So, I won't blame anyone else who hates it, too. It's a slow one, but still important.
> 
> I do not have a beta or a prereader for this fic, which terrifies me beyond imagination, but I'm still looking, so don't give up on me yet if I mess this chapter up. :D Feel free to point out any mistakes as well. I'm not prickly as long as you're nice about it.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or its characters. No copyright infringement is intended.

Shattered   
Chapter 2

Draco wasn't sure how long he had beat against the cabinet wall. He had long since given up on his screams for his father to open the bloody door. His voice, weak with exhaustion, couldn't handle it any longer. All he could do was sit and wait. 

He knew his father was dead. It had become apparent rather quickly that his prison was strongly warded from the outside. He had heard the cackles that had come from his Father's executioners, yet, all his banging and yelling had gone unnoticed. He knew the moment his father fell, the Death Eaters were heard spitting and stomping on his body, and there wasn't a damned thing that he could do about it. Instead of helping to protect the man who had given him life, he was trapped inside this fucking closet with Granger.

He didn’t know whether to scream or break down into the sobs he was furiously holding back. All he could do was wait and hope that Severus found him soon. He wasn’t sure how he would find him, but he believed it when his father had said he’d come for him. 

Looking to his left, for the first time since being trapped in his own personal hell, he studied Granger. He had cast a weak Lumos spell to try and find a way out of this place once his voice had went out, and had not paid her much attention since. He was slightly startled with what he saw. She was staring blankly at the doors, not really seeing them. 

He’d heard stories of what happened when someone cast their first unforgivable. He had never witnessed the shattering of one's soul before. Everyone he knew who had ever cast an Unforgivable had already experienced and recovered from soul shattering. Seeing it first hand was an entirely different matter.

Draco was rather disconcerted by her behavior. He was used to Granger nearly jumping out of her skin from wanting to do or say something. This quiet girl beside him was a shell, blank and lifeless, and it made him uncomfortable. 

Thankfully she hadn’t spoken a word since she had been thrown in here with him. He hadn't felt the need to speak either, other than his screaming for his father to open the fucking door. He wondered what she was thinking. She could hear just as well as he could and knew she had come to the same realization. Or maybe she was too far gone to notice her surroundings. She obviously hadn’t noticed him since she’d been locked in this wardrobe. He secretly hoped that was the case.

Regardless, he was grateful. He wasn't sure if he could handle any of her commentary at the moment. He knew she hated him and his family, and a word from her would more than likely send him into the emotional upheaval he was teetering on. He'd more than likely find himself casting his first unforgivable. 

He sighed and leaned his head back against the cabinet. They were stuck here, with no way out, until Severus came to look for them. He had nothing but time to think about the situation he now found himself in, which only increased his annoyance.

What would he do now? Both his father and his mother were dead. He had nowhere to go. The battle raging outside between Potter and the Dark Lord would determine his fate. He would spend the rest of his days in Azkaban or he would be tortured and murdered for being a traitor. Either way, he was fucked.

Closing his eyes, he tried to will the images of what he might find on the other side of the door from his head. He was anxious to get out of the prison his father had made for him, but he was also terrified of what lie beyond the door. Just the thought of it made his eyes sting and he wished the whole bloody nightmare would just be over with soon. 

He wasn’t sure how long they had sat in silence - neither moving nor speaking - before he heard a noise outside of the room. The rusty hinges groaned as the door was pushed open and then nothing. He popped his eyes open and quickly moved towards the door to see if he could hear anything else, completely forgetting about Granger for a moment. 

Carefully placing his ear upon the worn door, he could just make out the muffled thud of footsteps and a quiet murmured voice, but he could only make out one of each sound. He concluded that whoever it was, they must be alone. That did nothing to calm his anxiety, however. He couldn’t be certain if it was his godfather, Aurors or another Death Eater on the other side. 

For several long minutes, he listened carefully, not hearing anything else but the rush of blood through his ears; his heart racing frantically. He just wanted to get out of there, collect his father's belongings and crawl in a hole for the rest of his life. Waiting for his fate to find him was pure torture. 

Believing they were finally alone again, he started to lean away from the door when a sudden blast made him stumble backwards. It loudly echoed through the tiny closet and his wand was instantly in front of him. There was a moment of silence before a louder bang came from the door. Draco stood the best he could in his confined space and assumed a dueling stance. He would be ready for whoever came through the door. 

Several more crashes and the doors flew off their hinges into the Defense classroom. Draco had a spell on the tip of his tongue before he realized who it was. 

“Draco!” His godfather’s voice sounded louder than he was used to after experiencing hours of silence inside a small space. 

“Severus,” he replied calmly, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. 

Draco nearly dropped his wand in relief at seeing the man before him, but he masked it with his usual arrogance instead. His relief could wait until he was out of the castle and somewhere safe. 

He made to step out of his prison but stopped as he noticed the curious look on Severus’ face. His attention was drawn to the floor beside him where a forgotten Granger was still sitting, but now her eyes were focused on their rescuer instead of at the dark wall of the cabinet. 

That was when Draco noticed his own position. He was standing in front of Granger as if to defend her. He hadn’t realized he had changed positions, but his stance was clearly protective, which confused him as well. She didn’t seem to notice, but she also wasn’t in the lifeless position she had been in earlier. 

Stepping away quickly, he turned back to Severus, blinking several times. His eyes were still getting adjusted to the light in the room. It was still night from what he could see through the tall windows, but it was definitely brighter than the cabinet he’d been locked in. 

“How did you find me?” he asked, his voice still hoarse from screaming earlier. 

Before Severus could answer, he remembered how he had come to be locked away. His eyes darted around the room until he saw his father’s lifeless body several feet away. His throat closed up and his eyes started to sting at the sight before him. 

His father’s body was mangled, his left leg laying at an odd angle. There was blood on his crisp, white shirt that was now seeping out onto the floor. His white hair, the infamous Malfoy family trait, was now stained a sickly reddish-brown from the congealed blood. He couldn’t see his eyes, but he knew they’d be open wide. He didn’t want to look into those eyes and see his father’s last emotion clearly in them. 

Not yet.

Biting down on his tongue to keep the tears from forming, he looked back at his former Head of House, not knowing what to say or do. Severus’ shoulders were rigid, but he could see a spark of sadness in his eyes, and he knew he was grieving, too. 

He opened his mouth to say something, even though he didn’t know what, but was silenced by a loud explosion from the hallway. They both jumped from the sudden noise, drawing their wands. They waited, but no one entered the classroom. Draco became acutely aware of his surroundings and realized that the fighting around the castle still continued.

“We need to get out of here. Quickly.” His godfather reached a pale, boney hand around his wrist and pulled him out of the cabinet, before extended his hand towards Granger. 

“What are you doing?” Draco snapped. 

“I thought that was obvious,” Severus replied coldly, still holding his hand toward the girl. She still hadn’t said a word, but she was looking at his hand strangely. Draco’s nose scrunched up in confusion, hoping that he wasn’t planning on bringing the annoying Gryffindor with them. 

“Why?” Even if she’d saved his life earlier, he had spent several hours locked in a damn closet with Granger and he didn’t want to suffer her presence any longer. He felt dirtier for it. 

“Shut up, Draco. Now is not the time.” His former Head of House glared at him, before reaching down and yanking the shaking girl to her feet. She yelped, but didn’t protest. It was the first sound other than her breathing she’d made since she’d cast the Killing Curse. 

Draco turned away from him, furious for being spoken to in such a way, and wished he hadn’t. His eyes landed on his father once again, and the site caused his chest to ache in a way he hadn’t felt in months. Not since his mother had died. 

He took several deep breaths and ignored the pair behind him before taking a few cautious steps towards the mangled sight that lie ahead. His knees felt weak and his palms were sweaty, even as the cold air of the room swept across him. 

Slowly, he came to his father’s side before kneeling down next to him. He forced himself to examine every detail, every horrific, bloody fucking detail, of what lay before him. He reached his hand out and placed it on Lucius’ - his wand still firmly clutched within - flinching as he felt the cold, damp flesh. 

His heart was pounding in his chest, his breathing increasing rapidly, as he let his eyes travel towards his father’s. While he had been stuck in the closet, he had dreaded the moment when he would finally look into Lucius’ eyes, believing he would find a lot of things there he didn’t want to see. 

Draco never suspected that one could see so many emotions in a dead man’s eyes. Where he expected to see fear, he saw determination. Even in death he could see the defiance clearly ingrained in Lucius’ features. His eyebrows were slightly lowered as if he was concentrating on something; his lips set in a straight line and his jaw clenched. 

He didn’t show any signs of shock from the slicing curse that, Draco could now clearly see, had ultimately killed him. It was that determined look in his father’s eyes that made his heart clench painfully. His last words to him, swirling through his head like a broken record, had opened Draco’s eyes to a lot of things about his father, and he wasn’t sure what to make of them.

He wasn’t sure how long he had sat there, just staring at the man who had given him life. Time seemed to have stopped for Draco, the noises of the battle raging on outside completely lost to him, when he noticed a hand gently gripping his shoulder. 

“Come, Draco. There is nothing more you can do for him.” Severus’ deep voice brought him back to the present and his surroundings. He realized he had tears slowly falling down him pale cheeks and wiped at them furiously. He didn’t want anyone to see him like this. 

He caressed his father’s cheek before leaning down and letting his warm lips brush across Lucius’ cold brow. His long, pallid fingers shook as he closed his father’s eyes and collected his wand. Slipping it up his sleeve, he stood and faced his Godfather.

Severus had Granger’s elbow firmly gripped in his large hand, his dark eyes watching him carefully. He felt exposed under his gaze and turned to Granger instead. Her eyes were still glassy and her hair was wilder than usual, but she seemed to be more in control of herself. Her gaze was on him as well, making him want to shift uncomfortably. Instead, he stood as tall as he could and glared at the mudblood. 

She glared right back. There's the Granger we all know and loathe, he thought viciously. He didn't need her shit right now. 

“While I'm extraordinarily curious, now is not the time to learn how you two came to be locked in that cupboard. I need to get you both out of here before my absence is noted.” Snape's quiet voice broke them of their glaring match, causing them to look at him instead. 

“What do you mean us both? She's not coming with us,” Draco protested angrily. 

“Both of you,” Snape replied, his voice sharp like lion's teeth. 

“I've been locked in a closet with her for hours...” 

“Stop acting like a petulant child and more like the man you are,” Snape roared. His voice echoed through the empty classroom, bouncing off the stone walls with force. 

“She doesn’t need to come with us, and the Order can find her...” 

“There is no Order any longer!” 

The only sound was that of Granger's gasp. She stared at Severus in horror, her face turning impossibly pale, even more so than before. Draco ignored the tears that welled up in her eyes as he let the shock of what he had just been told wash over him as well. 

If the Order was gone, that meant Draco was well and truly fucked. He hadn't really let himself imagine what would happen to him if either side won. He knew what the consequences for each side's victory and what that would mean for him, but he hadn't dwell on it. Now that he knew for sure which side was still standing he understood fully what his fate would be. 

Knowing that when he was caught he'd be tortured extensively before being killed in the most painful manner possible made Draco feel ill. He hadn't realized until that moment that he'd secretly been hoping for the Order's victory. His stomach clenched tightly, and his hands began to shake. He would rather face the Dementors in Azkaban than Voldemort. He knew how sadistic that bastard could be. 

“Harry?” Snape grit his teeth and curled his lip in frustration when he heard the name fall off of her lips. Draco was smart enough to keep his mouth shut from any further protesting. He knew Severus' moods better than anyone, and knew when he was close to snapping. 

The echo of footsteps running down the hall caught their attention. Snape quickly made his way towards the Defense teacher's office, dragging Granger behind him; Draco following quickly. As they entered the small room, Draco took one last longing look at his father's body before shutting the door quietly. 

Snape was across the room and waving his wand at a portrait that hung by the window. The sky outside glowed an eery orange color, even against the darkness that still surrounded the castle. He couldn't hear the sound of battle any longer and wondered what was going on around them. The feeling of being cut off from the world engulfed him, making him feel detached and numb. He didn't like this feeling. 

The portrait swung open, showing a small, plain wooden door behind it. Severus swung it open and turned to look at them. His dark eyes glinted dangerously as his wand fell from his sleeve to his hand. 

“Stay close, wands out,” was all he said before making his way into the darkness. Granger stood motionless in front of the doorway, and Draco made to pass her, not wanting to lose Severus in what lie ahead. He could care less if the mudblood followed or not. 

He hadn't taken five steps before the overwhelming urge to turn around and grab her wrist overtook him. He was so surprised by the feeling that he jerked to a stop. Shaking his head of the notion, he continued on, but with each step the feeling became unbearable and he stopped again. Not understanding what was happening, but too worried he'd lose Severus if he waited much longer, he turned back around and retraced his steps. 

She was still standing in the office, staring into the darkness. Pissed that he had suddenly grown a conscious where Granger was concerned, he grabbed her wrist and yanked her in the tunnel with him. As soon as he had, the door shut on its own behind them. Not bothering to stop, he cast a Lumos spell and continued to walk. 

They caught up with Severus quickly, who had stopped to wait on them. His glare sent a chill down Draco's spine but he said nothing in his defense. He wasn't sure himself what had just happened. He just wanted to get out of this castle and far away from Voldemort as possible. 

Dropping Granger's wrist as if it had burned him, they continued on, the girl following them quietly on her own. They walked down several tightly cramped corridors, making Draco feel lost and off balance. They came to another door where Snape cast a few spells and waited. Seeming satisfied, he cautiously opened it and glanced around. They made their way out of the door and down a hallway Draco didn't recognize to a set of stairs. Making their way down, they stopped at the bottom and listened again. 

Snape continued this pattern of corridors and stairways, sometimes up, sometimes down. Draco's muscles were protesting, his fatigue setting in as he followed blindly. He was running out of steam from the emotional turmoil and physical trauma he had endured the last two days. 

Thankfully, they encountered very few Death Eaters along the way, but Snape always seemed to know exactly where to hide and when to move. Granger never said a word as she tagged behind them. She was looking worse by the minute, and Draco secretly hoped she didn't pass out. He'd be pissed if he was forced to carry her. 

They reached another hidden corridor, but this time, when they came to the end, they found a large iron door instead of wood. The same spells were cast before the door was opened, the hinges creaking loudly. Draco was relieved to see they were outside now, the sky starting to lighten with Dawn's approach. 

The smell of burning wood and death hung thickly in the air, causing Draco to cover his nose with his sleeve. The putrid stench burned his nostrils, and set the fine hairs on the back of his neck on end. The relief he had felt a moment before suddenly vanished as they made their way through the shrubs and towards the forbidden forest. 

They passed to the left of the Greenhouses, but not much was left of them. The foundations were still smoking from whatever spell they had been hit with and glass was scattered everywhere. When he and his father had first arrived, they had still been standing. 

Draco stopped observing his surroundings after he saw the first body lying in the grass. The mangle remains of his cousin brought back thoughts of just how truly alone in the world he was, and he couldn't bare to look at any of the other bodies they had passed. 

They soon reached the cover of the forest, and Snape ducked them behind a large tree. Pushing them down to the ground, they huddled closely together as he listened to see if they were being followed. Draco could feel Granger's breathe on his neck as she crouched behind him, making him want to push her off of him. He felt sick with having her so close, and wished they could Apparate so he wouldn't have to be so near her.

After several minutes of listening, Snape motioned for them to follow him. The path was dark, even with the gaining light. The trees swayed slightly in the breeze, groaning in protest as they made their way deeper into the forest. Roots and limbs slowed their path, but they continued on quickly through the brush. 

It wasn't long before Snape stopped them again, this time taking them both by the arm. 

“I'll Apparate us,” was his only warning, before Draco felt the familiar pull of Apparition take him. His only thought was that he was grateful to leave the smell of death behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there you have it. Thank you so much to those who read, reviewed and faved this story last chapter. I promise we will get into more of the Dramione part of the story soon. I know there are a lot of unanswered questions, and they will come, like why Hermione went with Severus so willingly and why Draco went back for her. Remember the spell in last chapter Lucius cast? Apparently Draco doesn't. lol He will though.
> 
> Sorry this is so late. I had a very unexpected family matter come up, literally, the day after this was posted and it knocked me for a loop. My mom has been sick for years and she is now in Hospice care which basically means she was sent home to die. It sucks, but writing is my outlet so I will continue on with this fic regardless. There might come a time when I might be late with an update due to the circumstances, but I will not be giving up on this fic. I've wanted to write it for over a year now.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading!
> 
> Izzy


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Harry Potter or its characters. No copyright infringement is intended.

Shattered

Chapter 3

She felt cold, even with the scratchy, wool blanket wrapped around her. She wasn't sure how it had come to lay against her shoulders, but that didn't matter. She was grateful for the heat, even if it only warmed her body. Her soul, however, was an entirely different matter.

She could feel it, the pieces of herself, swirling around; never quite connecting. It caused a sick feeling in her stomach to churn unpleasantly, and her head pounded from the effort of trying to hold herself together. She hadn't realized she could even feel her soul, but now that it was so irreparably damaged, she was all too aware of it.

Her body was tensed tightly, her muscles screaming in protest. She was exhausted and the energy she was using to hold herself together wasn't helping. Her eyes burned from trying to keep them open; she was certain they were blood shot.

The flash of the green spell she had just cast seemed to be permanently burned into her retinas, making her want to keep her eyes open and snap them shut all at the same time. She didn't know what to do to make it all go away.

She could hear Malfoy and Professor Snape whispering in the corner, but she didn't pay them any attention. She was focused on keeping herself together, even if she was failing miserably. The nausea was getting worse, and she was sure she'd be sick at any moment.

Focusing on herself was painful, but it helped to keep her mind off of what was really bothering her. She didn't want to think about Snape's words in the Defense classroom. She was anxious to ask him any of the hundreds of questions that had sprung to her mind when Professor Snape had informed them of the Order's fate.

"There is no Order any longer!"

He had never answered her question about Harry, and while she desperately wanted to know if at least one of her best friends had made it, she was too caught up in her own shite to voice the question. Not only did she feel like a piece of broken glass, she also, for the first time in her life, felt like a coward.

She wasn't ready to hear what had befallen her best friend, even if her Professor's reaction gave her all the information she needed to know the truth. She didn't want to know if she was the only other living survivor, not now, not ever. She knew she was running, but having her soul shattered so violently into a million pieces, caused her not to care if she was. She just wasn't ready to hear the truth yet.

"Take this." She couldn't tell if she had jumped at the sound of Professor Snape's voice or not. Her body was shaking too badly to tell, as well as her hand when she reached for the small flask.

Normally, she would have inspected anything he, or anyone else, had handed her, but her mind was not in a place to think of such precautions. She nearly dropped it as she lifted it to her lips, and didn't wince as the thick, disgusting liquid made its way down her throat.

He snatched the bottle back from her as soon as she had swallowed and placed it in the right pocket of his robes. She heard a clinking noise and knew he had other things hidden within. She wondered if he always carried potions around on his person, but then remembered he was a Potions Master.

He sat on the small wooden table before her, the one she had stared at for the past hour, and leaned towards her. Without asking, he reached his hand up and lifted her eyebrow, his rough hands agitating her overly sensitive skin. She tried to pull away, but he gripped her chin and held her head still. She was too weak to fight him.

He examined her carefully, more so than she thought him capable of, before releasing her. He sat straighter in his spot on the table and glanced at Malfoy, who was sitting in the only other lone chair in the room.

"How long ago?" She wasn't sure what he was talking about, but apparently, Malfoy did as he answered him.

"A few hours before you found us," he answered his lip curling in her direction. She closed her eyes and leaned back against the small sofa, willing the room to stop spinning. She was pulled forcefully forward by the Professor's large hands, making her eyes open again. The sudden movement made her head pound.

"Keep your eyes open," he snapped, releasing her once he saw she was listening. "It'll pass shortly, but until then, you have to try and keep your balance. Closing your eyes makes the sickness worse, taking longer for you to recover."

"What's wrong... with me?" Her voice cracked from disuse, and the nausea grew worse as she spoke.

"I think you know exactly what has happened to you, Miss Granger. You're a bright witch, and knew full well what would happen to you before you cast the Killing Curse." Although his voice was hard, there was something else she'd never heard before. Regret maybe? She wasn't sure, but it made her uneasy. So much so, that she almost missed the first compliment he had ever given her.

"I didn't... realize..."

"Obviously; there is a reason why they are called Unforgivables. It would do you well to remember that in the future." The sneer that crossed his lips mirrored Malfoy's. "Not that it matters now."

She wanted to tell him to go to hell, but whatever he had given her was starting to make her feel strange. The nausea was receding, but her head felt fuzzy. Her vision blurred as her eyes started to water.

"What did you give me?" She was thankful her heart was slowing, and her speech was improving, but everything else felt worse.

"It'll help with disorientation. Unfortunately, it makes it worse before it can get better. Give it another minute. You will feel your body start to relax."

She did as he asked, not sure why she was doing so. She didn't like this man, and while some of the Order had trusted him, she didn't. At least, not since he'd killed Dumbledore. She had trusted him to a point before Harry had told them what he'd witnessed on the Astronomy Tower, but afterwards all she could think was how foolish she had been. She would have bet her life that he was working for their side until that moment.

During their time searching for, and destroying the Horcruxes, she had realized along the way that he was helping them. He had delivered the Sword of Gryffindor, and had covered their tracks on more than one occasion. It was then she had started to re-evaluate everything she knew about him.

The more she had learned, the more she realized that there were bigger things happening behind the scenes, and whatever it was, it was important. She still had not discovered if she could trust him or not, but something about the way he spoken to her and Malfoy while in the Defense classroom had caused her to follow them. Not that she would have had much choice if she'd decided not to, but she didn't put up a fight like she normally would have.

What she did know was that Severus Snape had saved her life more times than she could remember. If he was the evil git the rest of the world thought him to be, why would he endanger himself to protect her and her friends time and time again? It didn't make sense, none of it. Despite the fact, she wanted to know why.

Breathing deeply, she could feel the muscles start to loosen. The cramps in her legs and arms, from trying to hold herself together physically, receded; her thoughts became more clear. She was now examining things from a different angle, and was scrutinizing every action she had made in the last twelve hours. She didn't like what she was remembering.

After several minutes, she felt like she could breathe normally again. She could still feel the pieces of her soul, floating haphazardly like broken shards in the wind. However, she didn't feel the overwhelming need to catch them and place them back together again. It was a relief, although the feeling felt more like acceptance than anything else. She wasn't sure what to make of that.

"Better?" Her professor's eyes studied her intently, before looking at her eyes again. He placed his fingers on the pulse point on her wrist to check her heartbeat. Satisfied, he leaned back once again and turned towards Malfoy.

"Now that we have that unpleasantness out of the way, you two need to explain what happened." His eyes shifted between her and Malfoy, only to settle on the latter.

Relief flooded throughout her body. While she had no desire to talk about the events of the night before, she'd rather do that than discuss what had happened to every person she knew and loved. She decided to just not to talk at all.

Malfoy rubbed his face with his hands before letting them travel through his blonde hair. Hermione took in his bloodshot eyes and the hopeless expression. She knew what it felt like to lose a parent and couldn't hold back the wave of pity that flooded her exhausted body. She couldn't stand the boy, but her heart didn't like to see anyone suffering, even if it was the slimy ferret.

Breathing deeply, he began to tell them how his father had found him during the battle, and his frantic flight to find Professor Snape. She remained mostly quiet, only speaking when Malfoy reached the point he had been hexed. He hadn't been sure what had happened at that point, since he'd been writhing in pain on the stone floor. She had to force herself to speak the words as she retold them how she'd protected the Malfoys with her Shield Charm.

"Why, Miss Granger, would you do such a thing?" Snape's voice was cold and demanding, causing Hermione to shiver slightly. She blamed it on the chilly wind that blew through the cracks of the small cottage they were sitting in.

She was quiet for a few moments, her thoughts drifting to the incident. She wasn't entirely sure what had possessed her to protect the two men. It was one of the things she was reviewing in her overly tired mind that she just didn't have an answer for. All she knew was that she couldn't just let them die. If she hadn't thrown up her shield in time, she was sure they'd both be dead, not just the elder Malfoy.

"Miss Granger?" Severus snapped, his patience thin.

She returned her gaze upon him and swallowed. Glancing at Malfoy quickly, she cast her eyes towards the floor as she answered. It was still several moments before she spoke.

"Because he didn't kill me when he had the chance." Her voice was soft, shaking. "I'm no match for Lucius Malfoy we both knew it, yet, all he wanted was to find you." She pulled the blanket wrapped around her shoulders a little tighter. "He lowered his wand..." She trailed off, her eyes glazing again to that unknown place.

"After that... I'm not sure what happened. I was too busy fighting off the Death Eaters who had attacked us."

"And that is when you cast the Unforgivable?" Severus' voice was harsh, but not accusing. He appeared more curious than anything else. She swallowed thickly before nodding.

"Did you see who it was?"

She didn't answer, just shook her head. He looked disappointed, but didn't comment further. He turned his attention back to Draco, as did she. He was staring at her, the glare gone, but it wasn't a pleasant expression, either. She returned his gaze defiantly.

The fire in the corner of the room that she hadn't noticed until now, popped, causing her and Draco to start, their eyes losing contact. Hermione brought her attention back to her professor. He had his head cocked to the side, as he stared between the two of them.

"Why did Lucius lock you two, of all people, in a closet together?" She felt as bewildered by his question as he looked for asking it.

The faint light that filtered through the windows dimmed. It was well into the morning hours now, but the distant rumble of thunder predicted a storm's approach. A few flicks of Snape's wand, and all the sconces were lit.

Hermione looked around the room, noticing details of where she was for the first time. The windows were dirty, like they hadn't been dusted in quite some time. The stone walls were bare, with the exception of a tapestry that hung on the far wall. It reached nearly from roof to floor, and showed signs of aging. It was torn at the bottom, but the picture within was in perfect condition.

The lady on the tapestry was tall, with long dark hair. Her eyes were a vibrant shade of blue, and although she was beautiful, there was something unsettling about her. Once Hermione had seen her, she couldn't seem to take her eyes off the woman in the tapestry. She wondered if she was a previous owner of the place that they were in.

She continued to study the lady for several moments, before her attention was pulled back to Malfoy. He had stood and was now leaning against a small window nook. It was the largest window in the entire cottage, or maybe it just looked that way with a pillowed bench tucked snugly below it. The glass looked much cleaner than the rest of the cottage, she noticed.

She could see the way Malfoy's shoulders slumped and shook slightly. He was obviously remembering how his father had died after being locked into the closet with her. Now that she was in more control of her own feelings and thoughts, she felt her heart constrict at the sight. She had hated Lucius Malfoy more than just about anyone but his son had loved him dearly. She saw that clearly in the way he had leaned over his father's mangled, lifeless body.

Professor Snape was staring between the two, waiting for his question to be answered. She had been in the middle of the most horrific experience of her life when she'd been thrown in the cabinet with Malfoy, so she wasn't much help in retelling the story her Professor wanted to know.

When Malfoy spoke, his voice was soft, distant. "I don't know. Maybe he thought we could help each other to survive if you didn't find us. But, he did something, Severus; cast some sort of spell on us both, and... I don't understand what it was or why."

Hermione nearly had to bite her tongue to keep her jaw from dropping. Out of all the years she'd ever known him, she had never heard Malfoy's voice sound so lost, broken. When he turned to look questioningly at Professor Snape, she saw so much in his eyes she'd never seen before.

He was clearly hurting, and Hermione couldn't blame him for looking like he was ready to crack. Being hunted by one side of the war had been hard for her, but he was being hunted by both. He had lost both of his parents, and now was stuck in this tiny room with Hogwarts most hated teacher and the girl he'd despised since they were eleven.

Not that he didn't deserve it in some way. He'd nearly killed Dumbledore, and had even let a pack of Death Eaters into the school to wreak all kinds of havoc. His friends had tried to kill her on several occasions and had made her life hell at Hogwarts for years.

But, even after all of that, she couldn't help the sympathy she felt for him. She knew he had a lot on his shoulders, he always had, and he had to make the best of the situation he was put into. In the end, he had chosen to help the side of the Light, even if it was just to save himself from a worse death than the one Voldemort had planned for him.

Professor Snape looked uneasy as he let Draco's words sink in. He was once again looking back and forth between the two of them, his beady eyes sharp, piercing. Hermione felt exposed, just as she always did when he looked at someone that way.

"It was cast on you both?" Hermione and Malfoy both nodded. "And you didn't recognize it?" His eyes settled on her, slightly accusing as she shook her head this time. She had forgotten all about the spell until Malfoy had pointed it out, but now that she remembered, she was curious herself what Lucius had done to them before his death.

Looking unsettled and slightly agitated, he stood and approached Malfoy. He gave no warning as he grabbed the younger man's chin and delved into his unguarded mind, a whispered "Legilimens" the only sound in the room as he did so.

Hermione watched the two stare at each other for several minutes, the room growing darker as the approaching thunder shook the cottage just a little bit harder. She couldn't take her eyes off of the pair, having never witnessed someone performing the spell. She had heard from Harry what it was like, but she could never tell when he was telling the truth where Professor Snape was concerned.

With a gasp, they both broke eye contact, each making it to the nearest chair before sinking ungracefully. Professor Snape was breathing heavily, his skin paler than usual, while Malfoy was sweating and his face flushed. They stared at each other, each having a bewildered look on their faces.

"What... did he do?" Malfoy was trying to catch his own breath as he watched Snape closely.

The Professor pinched the bridge of his nose as he cursed under his breath. His head was shaking in disbelief as continued to mumble. Hermione couldn't make out much of what he was saying. She leaned to the edge of the sofa anxious to hear what spell had been cast upon her and Malfoy. She had a feeling by the way Professor Snape was acting that she wasn't going to like what he told them.

"It's a binding spell, or curse is more appropriate. It was used in medieval times to keep family members, usually brothers, from trying to kill one another."

"Why would someone want to kill their own brother?" Hermione asked, appalled by the thought of family turning on one another in such a way.

"So the other could inherit the family fortune." Professor Snape sneered in her direction, although his eyes didn't quite connect with hers. His tone making it clear that he thought she was an imbecile for asking.

Hermione let the words sink in, wondering why the elder Malfoy would bind them together. Her mind went into overdrive, like it normally did when she didn't understand something, and several questions were on the tip of her tongue.

"Why would my father use that spell on us? What purpose does it serve?" Malfoy spoke before she could, his attention also solely on the other man.

The Professor stood once again, this time pacing slowly back and forth across the small room. His robes flourishing in their usual manner brought Hermione a strange sort of comfort. In the last year, her entire world had been turned upside down. But somehow, seeing that some things hadn't changed settled her panic.

"Over the centuries, magic has evolved. Witches and Wizards throughout the ages have worked to improve the primitive way things were done. Sometimes that included finding other ways to utilize a spell or curse to work for their benefit," Professor Snape said, using his lecturing voice. He needn't worry about keeping her and Malfoy's attention. They were hanging on every word he said. "This particular spell had been used to serve numerous purposes since its creation, one of which is to make sure that two people work together for survival," he paused, his eyes landing on each of them, "instead of causing it."

His gaze settled on Hermione, her eyebrows furrowing as she tried to decipher his words. It didn't take long, and the realization of what he was saying caused her blood to boil.

"He thought I'd kill Malfoy instead of helping him?" His lack of reply was all the answer she needed to know she was right. Her fists clenched, her nails dug painfully into her sweaty palms.

"This particular variation of the spell binds you to protect each other. If either of you are in danger, the spell will activate and cause the other to come to their aid... even if you should want otherwise."

"That's barbaric," Hermione cried. "So we're forced to put ourselves in danger for the other against our will?"

Draco was nearly growling as he mumbled under his breath. His teeth were clenched and his eyes closed. He looked just as happy about this development as she felt.

"Can it be reversed?" The blonde opened his eyes pleadingly towards the older man.

Professor Snape was quiet for several moments, an uncertain look in his eyes, before he simply said, "No."

"Fuck," Draco spat and sat on the bench in front of the window, his head in his hands. "So now I'm cursed to protect a mudblood for what, the rest of my life?" Hermione glared at his use of the derogatory word, but he ignored her.

"I don't know how long the spell lasts," the professor said, shaking his head in agitation.

"This is ridiculous. All because he thought I'd kill his son instead of helping him?"

"We don't know for sure if that was Lucius' reasoning behind casting the spell. No one knows but him, and we can't ask him now. You will have to learn to accept the situation for what is."

"If I don't kill him first, you mean?" Hermione snapped, giving Malfoy a withering look. She had protected him, yes, but she hadn't done it against her will. She didn't like the idea of having to do so without having a say in the matter. The thought didn't sit well with her at all.

"Like you even could," Malfoy snapped from his chair. He was glaring at her again as if this whole catastrophe was her fault. She wanted to punch him.

"Why don't you tell that to the bastard lying outside the Defense classroom?"

"You cast one Killing Curse and now you think you're an expert in murder do you?"

"Shut up, Malfoy. It wasn't my father who cast the spell."

"Don't you dare..."

"Quiet!" Professor Snape's voice echoed off the stone walls, effectively shutting them both up. "Stop squabbling like a pair of toddlers. I don't have time for this. My presence is needed elsewhere if you recall."

Hermione paled. She had forgotten about everything that was going on back at Hogwarts. Her problems couldn't compare to the hell of everyone else's. She immediately felt ashamed and looked down at her feet. She was worried about some ridiculous spell while there were still others fighting for their lives. She shouldn't even be here.

"I need to get back to Hogwarts. There might still be..."

"There is nothing you can do there. You'll be safer here." Snape's tone made it clear he wasn't taking her back with him.

"I can't stay here, wherever this place is," she snapped. She wasn't one to sit on the sidelines, and she definitely wasn't going to hide away here like a coward, with Malfoy nonetheless.

"Albus' cottage and yes, you will. As I said, Miss Granger, you'll be safer here. It is well hidden and even more so protected."

"You don't honestly expect to leave us both here. We'll kill each other," Malfoy whinged, his face going pale.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd think you'd jumped ship and landed straight in Gryffindor House, Draco. Complaining about things that you can't control is beneath you. Now stop snivelling and accept that you will not be leaving here until I say."

Hermione glared at her professor, not appreciating his insults on her house. She wisely kept her mouth shut, however, knowing this was Snape and it would only make it worse if she tried to defend her and her fellow Gryffindors.

"Until I can get a better picture of what we're dealing with, you two will stay here. Do I make myself clear?"

Glaring, and none too happy, Hermione nodded, Malfoy huffing and turning to look out the window without an answer. Lightning flashed and the rain began to pour upon the roof. The storm was now nearly on top of them, giving the cottage an eerie feel to it.

"Why are you helping me?" Hermione hadn't meant to voice the question as it popped into her head. "I understand why you're helping Malfoy, but why me? You could have left me there."

Thunder shook the cottage as he turned his black eyes upon her. Cocking his head to the side, he held her gaze, a calculating look across his face. He stared at her for several moments before stepping forward to where he was towering over her small frame.

"One day, Miss Granger, you will learn to see with more than just your eyes. When you do... you'll know the answer."

She continued to watch him as his words washed over her. She wasn't sure what he meant by them, but knowing him like she did, she was sure there was cryptic meaning behind them. He was much too like Dumbledore in that way, and that made her uneasy.

Hermione was caught off guard when he grabbed his arm and tried to stifle the hiss that left his lips. He immediately broke out into a sweat as he clenched his eyes shut. So startled was she, that she jumped, leaning as far away on the sofa as she could get. Her eyes were large as she saw that Malfoy was in a similar position where he sat across the room.

"I am being summoned. I'll return as soon as I can." His voice was strained as he pulled his wand from his robes. Once he took several deep breaths to compose himself, he walked purposefully towards the door they had entered upon arriving.

His hand was on the knob when Hermione said, nearly shouting, "Wait. What about Harry?"

She swallowed thickly as she watched his shoulders tense. She had wanted to avoid it for as long as she could, but not knowing when he would return, she forced herself to ask the question she had dreaded most.

"Is he still alive?" Her whispered words floated across the room as her eyes filled with tears.

He turned only his head as he twisted the brass knob, his eyes shadowed when he answered. "I don't know."

Then he was gone, leaving her alone in the cottage with Malfoy as he clung to his left arm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End Note: This is all very slow going right now, but I promise it will pick up in the chapters ahead. On another note... I adore Snape. I do, I do. But I absolutely suck at writing him.
> 
> Special thanks to two amazing people...
> 
> First, river of the sand for her awesome work in beataing this chapter. Thank you again for offering to correct my crazy grammar! And also to l0stinl0ve for keeping me from deleting this chapter for a third time. Your comments were so very helpful. 3 And as always, JDA, who is always around for me to flail at when I need to.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading!
> 
> Izzy


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: There is a lot of headspace in this chapter. I think only one word of dialogue, and while this may seem like a filler chapter, it’s not. There is very important information that will come into play later on in the story, so keep your eyes peeled for hidden meanings. 
> 
> HUGE thanks to my awesome beta, river of the sand, for her amazing work. She made this all shiny and better. Also to JDA for alpha work and cheerleading me on the side. I couldn’t do this without you two. And a special side thanks to Nox for her help with that tricky wording. :D 
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or its characters. No copyright infringement is intended.

# Shattered

Draco heard her screams, he always did. They were louder than his were, he was certain, yet, he never spoke of them.

They never spoke about anything; not about the weather, not if they thought Severus would ever come back, or if they ever thought they could leave this fucking cottage. Speaking was irrelevant. It wasn’t going to change anything if they suddenly decided to be friendly and hold a conversation. It’s not like either of them had much to say anyway, but he always heard her scream.

And he was pretty damn certain she heard him, too.

 

He thought about casting a Silencing Charm on his room the first time he woke up covered in sweat, his voice hoarse. He didn’t like to appear weak, and hated that she could hear him, but after waking to Granger’s own voice shattering the silence of the small cottage, he decided not to. It was oddly comforting to know he wasn’t the only one who was living in this living hell, and considered it one extremely fucked up peace offering to his childhood nemesis.

Draco knew it made no sense, but he just didn’t care. His life had turned upside down and inside out. He couldn’t even pinpoint the moment it had happened. Calculating in his mind every move he or his family had made, every little decision, he concluded that his life had been heading down this path all along. Locked up with Granger, and ignoring each other only to wake to the other’s shouts of terror was not what he had expected, but it was what he had gotten.

And he hated it.

A week of this isolation, this... forced imprisonment, for that’s what it was, made him slightly stir crazy. He longed for some sort of interaction. The walls felt too closed in, the space too small. It didn’t help that the rain never seemed to stop; only adding to his darkening mood. He often wondered where in the world he was, but nothing in the cottage gave away their location.

Thinking back on the last week, he couldn't decide if he felt grateful for the silence or wary of it. He was, however, tired of the monotony of it all.

**~S~S~S~S~S~S~S~**

The first few hours had been spent in excruciating pain, so he hadn’t done much of anything but sit in the bay window that overlooked part of the grounds. His Dark Mark hadn’t burned like that since he’d taken the damned thing. When the pain had ceased, and he could breathe properly once again, he finally took note of his surroundings.

Draco had been too exhausted to do much of anything, but he had noticed Granger’s vacant expression as she stared at the old tapestry on the wall. She had obviously relapsed into whatever it was she was going through, and he didn’t bother disturbing her. He had grudgingly acknowledged she had given him space when he needed it, and decided to return the favor.

Although, he admitted to himself, he didn’t want to talk to her anyway. Why he was trying so hard to be civil to the Mudblood was beyond him, but he felt an impulse to not snarl and snap at her the way he normally did. He was pretty sure the spell had something to do with that, but it was still confusing.

Deciding to take a look around, he explored what he could of his personal prison. The main room was in the shape of a pentagon, which he thought was a rather bizarre layout for a home. This had been Dumbledore’s place, after all, and that old man hadn’t quite sat fully on his broom anyhow. Looking at it from that perspective he found the oddness of the room rather fitting.

There were five doors, one on each of the five walls; deciding to take a look behind each one, he was further perplexed when he opened the first door, which turned out to be a rather ostentatious bathroom, and noticed the room was in the shape of a triangle. He used the facilities, surprised that thus far, the urge to do so had escaped him, and went to see what the other doors held.

The next room, a nice sized kitchen, was also in the shape of a triangle. Looking through the cabinets, he quickly found a glass and filled it with water. The cool liquid eased his parched throat somewhat as he drank it all down, only to refill it and take smaller sips on the second helping. His stomach growled, and although he found himself rather famished, he wanted to see what other surprises this strange home held.

The third door, a bedroom, held a nice sized bed that looked rather inviting. He was not surprised to see it was also in the same shape as the first two rooms. He stared longingly at the bright purple comforter, wanting to crawl right under the ridiculous bed linens and have a proper sleep. He would come back to this room when he was done exploring. He didn’t like not knowing what was behind these doors, and planned to check them all out before he did anything else.

 

When he had closed the door behind him, he glanced at Granger and noticed she hadn’t moved. Her eyes were drooping, but still open, staring at the lady in the tapestry. He ignored her and continued his search.

He was glad to see another bedroom, exactly like the first, behind the fourth door. He didn’t want to have to fight his annoying housemate for the only bed. Not that he thought he’d have to in the state she was in, but when she snapped out of whatever weird shit she was going through, he didn’t want to worry about who got the comfortable space to sleep.

The last door he knew was the front door. He had stared at it, wondering if he should take a look around outside, but decided against it. Looking at the rest of the oddly shaped room, noticing how bare everything looked, he couldn’t help but feel it was rather depressing - fitting for his current situation.

He had started for the bathroom, hoping for a quick shower, but decided against it. He was just too tired. Taking his leave to the first bedroom, he promptly undressed and fell into the mountain of pillows that adorned it.

**~S~S~S~S~S~S~S~**

Draco’s sleep had been restless, plagued with nightmares, so he was rather surprised to wake and find he’d been out for nearly two days. He had hated the watch that was clasped to his pale wrist when his father gave it to him several months earlier. It had such a Muggle-like appearance, and he always felt uneasy wearing it, but he couldn’t deny the usefulness of it now. If nothing else, the built-in calendar helped keep the days from blurring together.

His stomach was now aching; not having eaten for nearly three days, he knew food was in order, and quickly. Hoping that he’d find something edible, he got dressed and made his way out of the room.

He’d nearly forgotten about Granger, and stopped in his tracks as he exited the room. She was no longer staring at the wall, but standing in front of the tapestry. He had to catch himself from asking what was so fucking great that she felt the need to stare at it constantly. If that’s what she wanted to do with her time, then that was her business. He had more important things to worry about, like food.

She turned to face him as he closed the door, and their eyes locked. He noticed she looked much better than she had the last time he’d seen her. The tangled mess she called hair was now clean and brushed. Her skin had some color back to it, and her eyes were brighter, more aware. 

Her gaze unsettled him, so he broke eye contact and made his way towards the kitchen, hoping that he could find something light to calm his stomach, which was cramping painfully from hunger. He felt like he could eat a Hippogriff.

Granger must have also sought out food, evidenced by the clean dishes stacked on the counter where there weren’t any before. It gave him hope that there was something edible in this hellhole after all. He had his fill of water before opening a small door at the end of a row of cabinets, and was pleased to see a full pantry; fruit, breads, several buckets of vegetables, all put under a seemingly powerful Stasis Charm. There were also a lot of packaged things on the shelves, but he wasn’t sure what they were. He needed something light since it had been so long since he’d eaten and decided on an apple, a few slices of bread, and jam.

Draco sat at the small table and ate his meal quickly. It didn’t take much to fill him up. He knew his appetite would be iffy for the next few days, but the small amount of nourishment had helped. He felt much better.

After cleaning up, he had made his way into the bathroom, longing for a nice long bath. The scalding water had also done wonders in helping to lift his spirits. His muscles had been wound tightly, cramping not only from hunger. The water had eased the aches that now rocketed through his body, although the soap wasn’t something to jump for joy over.

Lemons... What else would the old man have lying around?

After his bath, which had taken the better part of two hours after he’d filled the tub twice, he had stood in front of the mirror staring at his reflection. So far, he had been able to clear his mind of the horrors he’d experienced the last several days, but it was all beginning to catch up with him.

His father’s death was prominent in his thoughts; Lucius’ defiant, final expression flashing before his eyes. He had to continuously shake his head to try to dispel the images, but so far that action had proven futile.

Staring at his gray eyes and blonde hair, he could see so much of his father in himself. Despite popular belief, he hated that he was so much like Lucius. At one point in his life he was proud to be his father’s son, but somewhere along the way, Draco had realized his father wasn’t Merlin Incarnate. He was a man with many flaws, but none so more than allowing the murder of his mother.

A pang of sorrow spread through his body. He could still hear her screams echoing through his mind. He had fought to get to her, but his father had pulled him out of the manor saying he wasn’t to do anything foolish. At first, he’d been enraged that Lucius had left his mother to her fate, but he’d seen the look of pure anguish in his eyes. It wasn’t until much later, when the rage cooled slightly, that he came to his senses. He wouldn’t have been able to save his mother no matter how hard he’d tried, and if anything, Lucius had saved his life.

It was a bitter potion for him to swallow, knowing he had allowed his father to tuck tail and run with him in tow, even if it cost his mother her life. He had sworn that day that his Aunt Bella would die by his hand if at all possible; betraying her own sister to gain favor with the Dark Lord was unforgivable in his eyes. Malfoys believed that family always stuck together, not go against them.

Growling in frustration for letting his thoughts wander so far, he pushed himself away from the counter he’d been leaning on, and finished dressing. From the looks of the place, he’d have all the time in the world to think about how horribly wrong everything had gone.

Exiting the bathroom, Draco was relieved to see Granger was nowhere to be found. The door to the spare room was shut, so he assumed she was sleeping, or hiding. He didn’t care. He was just happy to be rid of her presence for the time being.

He had retired to the window nook for some time, watching the each drop of rain as it slid its way down the window. The rain was soothing, and after a few hours he felt himself slowly start to nod off. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when he heard her screams. He had shot out of the nook, wand drawn and panting.

He listened closely, only to hear her whimpers and cries from behind the door. He had been worried at first that she was in trouble, and immediately reached for the door. It wasn’t until he was standing over her bed, watching as the nightmare violently gripped her that he asked himself what he was doing.

“It must be the spell,” he thought as he backed quietly out of the room, leaving Granger to writhe in terror on her own.

He had soon retired to his own bed, thankful that he heard no more screams coming from her side of the cottage. Sleep didn’t come easily after that as his mind wandered to what could be plaguing Granger so harshly that she’d suffer nightmares. He did eventually fall into a deep sleep, only to wake from his own nightmares much later on.

**~S~S~S~S~S~S~S~**

Somehow, this had quickly become their routine – avoiding each other at all costs, even as their screams echoed through the stillness of the air. It was driving Draco mad. He’d never gone so long without speaking before, and he was certain if he tried to, his voice would be hoarse from disuse.

He had hoped his Godfather would return quickly, but after several days he’d given up hope on that happening. He always tried to push away the lingering doubt that something had happened to him, but he knew how resourceful Severus could be, and that brought Draco hope that he was alright.

Eight days now he’d been a prisoner in Dumbledore’s old cottage, nothing to do but watch the rain and avoid his only housemate. There weren’t even any books to read in this ratty little cottage. All he could do was think… and thinking when one was in Draco’s mindset was never a good thing.

**~S~S~S~S~S~S~S~**

The clacking sound of his boots echoed off the stone walls, his wand providing the only light. His shadow was the only thing to keep him company as he made his way further down into the snake’s lair. He was unnerved, as he normally was when going before the Dark Lord, but also from the current climatic contradiction he had found himself in.

If there was one universal truth that Severus knew, it was that dwellings below the earth’s surface were cold, dark places. Living in the dungeons of Hogwarts for most of his life, he was used to giant holes in the ground and what little heat they offered. He should not feel the sweat pouring from his brow, or the stickiness of his soaked robes as he traveled further below, yet, he did.

The heat was nearing unbearable; whether from his nervousness or his adaptation of the cold, he wasn’t sure. Regardless, something didn’t feel right. He had no idea what had happened at the end of the battle, but he knew that the Dark Lord still lived. The tumultuous heap of emotions that ran through his pounding veins was hard to decipher at that thought.

Everyone had thought that the battle that raged would have decided the fate of his world once and for all, but why, if Potter was dead, would the Dark Lord be hiding in this sweltering, guarded pit? It made no sense to Severus, no matter how he looked at it from his overly stimulated mind.

Did that mean Potter still lived? As much as he despised the boy, he knew if he fell then the rest of them would along with him. The only way for Severus to ever be free again was by his death or by the victory of his childhood nemesis’ son. If Potter really was dead, then death would be a much welcome reprieve from this life of servitude.

He grimaced at the thought of taking his own life as he tried to avoid the rats that scuttled about below his feet. He would have never imagined the Dark Lord would reside in such filth, which made all the hope Severus felt at Potter’s survival swell deep within him. Maybe the snake was hiding.

Besides, no matter how appealing the thought of suicide might be, he had two very important charges to look after; he was more than aware of Draco and Miss Granger’s aversion to one another, or more like hatred he amended, but was certain that they could learn to get along. They had no choice in the matter now. Adding the effects of the cottage, along with those of the spell Lucius had so foolishly cast before his death, they would at least not kill each other. He hoped.

He wasn’t quite sure why he had the impulse to take them to Albus’ cottage, and he slightly regretted dropping the two headstrong teens on a doorstep he’d only visited a handful of times himself, but what was done was done. It had been an impulse decision, and one now he couldn’t take back, but he knew if all else failed, they’d be safe. The cottage had protections on it much like a Fidelius Charm, and no amount of Cruciatus could pry their location from his lips or his mind.

They were safe, and that was more than he could have hoped for; why he cared about the fate of the two children was beyond his mental capacities at the moment, but sometimes he allowed himself to be led by instinct, and his instinct had told him to hide the pair. And hidden they would stay until he returned.

If he returned.

The heat was nearly crippling by the time he reached the metal doors to his destination. He took a moment to cast a Cooling Charm and wiped his brow of any lingering perspiration, before pushing his way through. He might be terrified, and usually was in his master’s presence, but he would never show it.

His enhanced senses quickly surveyed the room, and instantly found the source of the scorching heat. A furnace larger than he’d ever seen stood blazing on the far side of the room. Watching the flames roar only made the squelching heat intensify, nearly knocking him to his knees from the uncomfortableness of it. He showed no sign of his discomfiture, however, as his eyes studied his master who stood before the furnace, a long table stretched before it.

He took several steps forward, but they faltered as he saw the bloodied heap that lay upon the wooden surface. It was obviously a body that was wrapped and bound in the sheet his master stared at thoughtfully. He couldn’t be certain who lie beneath it, but he had to swallow the bile that rose in throat as his sharp mind formed assumptions.

“Severussss.” The Dark Lord’s voice was quivering with rage, snapping him back to attention.

Gathering himself rapidly, he hadn’t taken more than two steps before the expected bout of Cruciatus hit him, knocking him on his back. He had to grit his teeth painfully to keep the scream lodged in his throat, but managed to hold on to his dignity while every nerve in his body set flame to one another.

He felt all the lingering hope leave him as the pain finally receded, his eyes focused on the bloodied sheet; body violently shaking. He didn’t need to be told who lie dead before him. He now knew, and as the Dark Lord hit him with the spell again, always hating that he couldn’t pull a more vocal reaction from his spy, he bit his tongue to keep from screaming. Severus never screamed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End Note: I’ll give house points to anyone who can CORRECTLY guess the shape of the cottage. (Hint: Think Celtic) It falls in the “Important Shit To Remember” category. You don’t have to leave a review if you’d rather send your guess via PM. I’m not one of those people who beg for reviews and hold chapters until I hit a certain number. I’ll post when I can regardless if I get any or not, so a PM is fine if you’d rather. I like playing games, though, so it’ll be fun to see how many of you catch on to what I did here. (CACKLES) 
> 
> Also, I do have a Livejournal account that I’ve started keeping track of all the stuff I have going on if anyone wants to go follow. Fests I’m participating in, story updates, any graphics I will eventually do, and... my more sinister stories. There is some really squicky shit over there, though, so if you go check it out, be warned. It’s not stuff I’d normally write myself, but when you lose High Stakes Word Wars and get prompted weirdness, well, you end up with a LJ account like mine. There’s a link on my profile page. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who is reading and of course to those of you who review. Your thoughts are amazing and very encouraging.
> 
> Izzy

**Author's Note:**

> Lucius' spell was "supposed" to read as "Call Together to Protect". My Latin is ridiculously rusty, so much so, that I had to refer to a translation website to help me with this. Although, in the past when I've used these sort of sites, I've found sometimes the nonsense it spouts back at me is not what I think it is. If I got the translation wrong, by all means please, let me know. I'm not the prickly type to get offended when called out on mistakes. I'm only human after all.
> 
> Special thanks to Kedavranox for her amazing beta work and Jasper's Dark Angel for prereading and cheering me on when I wanted to throw this fic on the floor and set fire to it. Reviews are appreciated if you are inclined to leave one, and I will try to answer each one and answer any questions if you have them. Thanks for reading.
> 
> Izzy


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